Magic Through the Ages
by Rina Meunier
Summary: Has anyone ever wondered what would change in the wizarding world if muggles became aware that they are not alone in the universe? A young Spock develops a friendship with a human girl he met one day in Shi'Kahr. As time passes, the relationship grows deeper. But she is hiding something.
1. Chance Encounter

Chance Encounter

It was a rather unremarkable day in Shi'Kahr. 8-year-old Spock had agreed to accompany his mother to the market where she wished to purchase the ingredients for their dinner. Spock sighed internally. Despite passing the kahs-wan, he and his half human heritage were still looked down upon by his fellow Vulcans. He could recognize their disapproval, no matter how subtle they believed themselves to be. And his father was a different matter entirely.

He, dare he admit, enjoyed the time he and his mother spent alone. While he knew it was not easy for her that he'd chosen the Vulcan way, she supported him with all her might. Spock wondered if the people on Earth would be more accepting of him but dismissed the thought immediately. He doubted it. He didn't belong in either world.

"Excuse me," the quiet, timid voice of a young girl interrupted his thoughts. Spock turned around, slightly surprised at the girl's unmistakable British accent. The voice belonged to a short human girl, likely around Spock's age. She was delicate to the point of looking fragile, with pale skin, eyes such a dark shade of gray, it barely differed from the color of her pupils or the even darker ring surrounding her irises. Locks of fiery red, curly hair peeked out from under the light blue scarf covering her head. Her dress was ankle-length, had long, wide sleeves and was made from a light material of a darker shade of blue. Her feet were clad in light brown moccasins. "I have lost my father. Something caught my attention at one of the stands and he must have gone on without realizing I was no longer with him. Can you help me?" Her voice broke slightly at the end.

Amanda took pity on the child. "Of course, Dear. What does he look like?" she asked in a gentle tone she also used on Spock when she knew the other children had been picking on him again.

"He's tall, 41 years old, with graying red hair and he's wearing a black tunic, black trousers and dress shoes."

They started to walk into the direction the girl had come from. "It should not be too difficult to find a human man in a place almost exclusively frequented by Vulcans," Spock said, trying to calm her further. To his surprise, it seemed to work as she nodded and wiped at her eyes with her sleeve.

"I am Amanda, by the way. This is my son Spock. What's your name?"

The girl opened her mouth to reply when there was a cry of "Lydia!" and a man fitting the child's description ran over to them, fell to his knees in front of his daughter and hugged her tightly. "Thank heavens you're alright."

Spock fidgeted, knowing all eyes were on them because of the emotional display, but if the man noticed, he didn't care as he placed a kiss on the girl's head. He looked up at them. "Thank you for looking after my daughter."

Amanda smiled and waved it off. "It was nothing. We were glad to assist. Right, Spock?"

Spock nodded. "Quite, Mother. It was no issue, Mister…"

The man got to his feet, dusting off his trouser legs. "McGill. Ian McGill. Pleased to meet you, Spock. And you, Ms. …"

"Just call me Amanda. My husband's name would be too difficult for you to pronounce."

He shook her hand. "Then call me Ian. And this is Lydia."

Lydia nodded. "Good to meet you. And thank you so much."

They acquired the items they had come to the market for and the conversation continued after they had left the marketplace.

"You are rather well-spoken, Lydia."

Lydia looked down. "Thanks, Mam. My parents insisted I learn to speak properly."

"Is your mother here, too, or is she back in Britain?"

The change in mood was instantaneous. Lydia inhaled sharply and started shaking. Mr. McGill pulled her close to try to keep her from having a panic attack. His mother's eyes got an apologetic, concerned look. Then something strange happened. Suddenly, there was a strong wind atypical for this time of the year.

"Her mother is of no importance," Ian said gravely, still holding his daughter tightly, rubbing her back.

Spock thought feverishly about what he could do, while simultaneously attempting to wrap his mind around the sudden change of weather. "Do you have another name, Lydia?"

The girl locked eyes with him. There was a storm raging inside those nearly black eyes. She took a few shaky breaths before answering him. "Athena. My middle name is Athena."

Spock nodded. He could work with that. "No doubt named after the Greek goddess of wisdom, knowledge and arts. Her symbol was an owl."

His mother gave him a grateful smile. "Do you like owls, Lydia?"

Lydia sniffed and once again wiped her tears away with her sleeve before completely breaking the embrace with her father. The wind disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. "They are interesting creatures. Did you know that centuries ago, people considered the call of a barn owl an omen of death and therefore called the animal 'death owl' or 'demon owl'?"

Spock raised a teasing eyebrow. "Humans and their prejudices are most illogical."

Lydia smiled shyly. "Yes, we make no sense. And we'll probably always find something to be prejudiced against."

The adults let the children walk ahead of them, sharing amused looks as their children discussed various aspects of humanity.

* * *

That evening, Lydia sat in her room in the suite her father had booked for their stay on Vulcan, thinking about the day she'd had when there was a loud crack. "Master told Toodey to inform young Lydia that dinner is ready."

The girl smiled at her family's house elf. "Tell him I'm on my way." The creature nodded and disapparated from the room. The girl rose and went to the dining area. Her father had barely taken his second spoon of soup when she whispered: "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to change the weather."

The man sighed. "I know, Darling. You were upset. I know you can't control it. That's why we're here. We will find a way to fix this."

She looked doubtful. "What if it only gets worse? You'll be in trouble with the Ministry if they find out what you did. That you relocated your ill, out of control daughter to another planet, where she could be a real danger to the whole population."

He rose from his chair, kneeled in front of her and took her hands. "We will fix this. I don't care about the Ministry. You are all that matters to me. Do you understand?"

She nodded. "What about the boy we met today? You got along quite well. Should I ask his mother if the two of you could meet up again?"

Lydia's eyes lost some of their sadness. "He's nice. That would be great."

Ian nodded. "I will make the call tomorrow once I have figured out this muggle technology."

She smiled a little, then pushed her plate away. "I'm not hungry anymore. Can I go to bed?"

He sighed heavily before handing her a small vial of sleeping potion. "Of course. Sleep well, Honey."

After receiving a kiss goodnight, she retreated to her bedroom, changed and brushed her teeth. She slipped under the covers and drank the potion, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep soon after.

* * *

**Let me know what you think.**


	2. A First Visit

A First Visit

A few days after their first encounter, Spock knocked on the door of the McGills' suite. He was unsure of his current situation. His conversation with Lydia had been animated and interesting. And neither of the two had batted an eye about the fact that he, a Vulcan boy, had a human mother. They also seemed to be a quite wealthy family to be able to afford such an accommodation.

The door opened to a disheveled looking Ian McGill wearing an emerald green dressing gown over light blue pajamas and grey slippers. The human stepped aside to let Spock in and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, Spock. I'm afraid I overslept. Lydia is still asleep. Would you like some tea?"

Spock crossed his arms behind his back. "It is no problem, Sir. Tea sounds acceptable."

They sat down at a round table were Mr. McGill poured Spock a cup of peppermint tea which he accepted with a short nod. "How long have you been on Vulcan?"

McGill thought for a moment. "About two weeks now."

"What made you come here? In my experience, it is rare to see humans here that are not members of Starfleet."

McGill pressed his lips together. "Lydia is ill. She has experienced events that have made her emotionally unstable and that frequently cause breakdowns and panic attacks. I hoped this planet and its people might help to stabilize her." He met Spock's eyes. "You can still back out if this makes you uncomfortable. Lydia does not know you were scheduled to come over today. She is still asleep because of the drug she has been required to take almost every night for a little less than a year."

Spock frowned. "I do not wish to intrude, but what happened to her mother?"

The man's eyes hardened. "She left because Lydia didn't turn out to be the way she wished. My ex-wife is a bigoted maniac that has torn a hole in this family. Please don't speak of her in front of Lydia. It would only upset her, as you have witnessed."

Spock barely had time to nod when the door behind him hissed open and Lydia, wearing a sapphire dressing gown over a white nightgown which just barely contrasted her skin tone, stepped out of her bedroom, sleepily rubbing her eyes.

Her eyes lit up when she spotted him."Spock! I didn't know you would come over."

Spock noted with slight amusement how her wild red curly hair, which reached her lower back, bounced with each step. "It is agreeable to see you again, Lydia."

"Good morning, Dear. Sit down and have some tea. I'll get you some breakfast." He stood. "And a hair tie. You want something to eat, Spock?"

Spock shook his head. "No thank you, Sir."

McGill left the room. Lydia took a sip of tea. "Dad's always worried I get my hair in my food."

Spock quirked an eyebrow. "I believe that concern is not entirely unwarranted."

The girl tucked her hair behind her ears only for a few strands to fall back into her face. She looked into her tea cup. "The kids in school say I look like a witch. Their parents say that too sometimes. And sometimes even worse things when they think I can't hear them."

He blinked and sincerely hoped the adults had not said what he thought she implied they had said. "It is truly astounding how little humans seem to have progressed in the last centuries," he said in an even tone.

"I don't suppose Vulcans say such things," she responded quietly.

Spock repressed a sigh. "Unfortunately, Vulcans are not above being prejudiced either."

She met his eyes and he saw a glimmer of sympathy and understanding. Mr. McGill chose this moment to reenter the dining area. He put a plate with bread and fruit in front of his daughter, stepped behind her, brushed her hair back, gathered it in his hand and then wrapped what was actually a shoelace around the strands several times before tying the ends into a neat double bowknot.

"We need to get you a hairclip," he said before sitting down opposite from Spock and refilling his teacup.

Lydia just giggled. Spock thoughtfully sipped his tea. Something was odd about the McGills. And he had witnessed firsthand how quickly Lydia's emotional state could go downhill. He had been offered a choice to back out. But somehow, even after this short time, he couldn't find it in himself to regret knocking on their door.

* * *

**Sorry it's so short. I'll try to make the next chapter longer.**


	3. Darkness

Darkness

From then on, Spock and Lydia spent most of their spare time together. They would drink tea, talk, play chess, read together and sometimes, Spock would show Lydia the mountains and the desert. She had even acquired boots, trousers and a tunic in accordance with Spock's specifications for that purpose.

While watching Mr. McGill manipulate the girl's hair into a firm French braid and checking over her dark blue assemble and black boots, he wondered if this man simply put a lot of trust in him or if it was normal for humans to let their children wander off into the desert with only another child for company.

McGill tied a sachet to Lydia's belt next to her flask and then skillfully tied her light blue scarf around her head and neck. "Sunscreen is applied, hair out of the way, supplies are accounted for, right Spock?"

Spock turned slightly to show the backpack holding even more water, some food and other things they might need. "Yes, Sir."

McGill kissed the top of Lydia's head and patted Spock's shoulder in goodbye, wishing them an enriching day and soon they were on their way out of the city.

As they wandered around, Spock took pleasure in seeing Lydia enjoy the landscape. "Thank you for taking me here. This is way better than sitting in my room all the time."

Spock allowed a small smile to curl his lips. "You are quite welcome. I am gratified that I have someone I can share this with."

Another thing he appreciated about the girl was that she never asked any uncomfortable questions. Not about his human mother, not why he preferred to exclusively show his Vulcan side and not why he did not have any friends, even if the reason for the latter was likely that she did not have any either.

They were sitting on a rock and Lydia was reapplying her sunscreen. Spock tilted his head, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. "There is still a visible smudge on your nose."

She pouted in mock offense. "Glad this amuses you."

Spock extended his hand but stopped only a few inches away from her face. "May I?"

She nodded and closed her eyes. Spock touched her nose with his fingertips, gently rubbing in the white lotion. He took his hand away, a tad hesitantly, and she opened her eyes again. They looked at each other before turning back to the sand dunes around them. She opened her mouth to thank him when their moment of companionship was broken.

Spock immediately recognized the two boys approaching them as Stonn and Turek, two of his classmates that took unVulcan pleasure in tormenting him.

"It seems that Spock has finally decided to stick to his own kind," Turek stated with a condescending gaze towards Lydia.

Spock stood. "Leave her alone, Turek. She is none of your concern."

"He is defensive of her. Is that not indicative of romantic feelings for humans?" Stonn added.

Lydia's eyes travelled back and forth between the three boys. "Spock, maybe we should go home," she said timidly.

Turek took a step towards her. "You could do us all a favor and take him with you to Earth. He doesn't belong here and neither do you."

Lydia stood, back straight, shoulders back, chest out and chin raised, but due to her low height and delicate stature, this failed to impress anyone. "Leave us alone, what's wrong with you? Being human is not bad. We can't change what we are born as."

The mysterious wind had picked up again, stronger than before, but that did not seem to interest their bullies. Turek raised a sardonic eyebrow before reaching to take hold of her hair, causing the scarf to slip from her head. Some of her red curls had become loose and now framed her pale face. She let out a pained cry, making Spock want to come to her aid only to be pushed away by Stonn. He fell backwards and his head collided with the rock, briefly making him see stars.

At the sight of his blood dripping down the back of his neck, Lydia turned to rush to him only to be held back by Turek's painful grip on her hair. She cried out again and her eyes started leaking tears.

"They truly are close," Stonn remarked.

Turek looked at her closely. "Maybe she has bewitched him. She really looks like the women humans used to burn at the stake."

Spock felt even more nauseated than he had before. Lydia went completely stiff, before starting to shake uncontrollably. The wind became even stronger and Turek let go of her in surprise taking a few steps back. Lydia fell to the ground, her small body rocking with seizures. Spock ignored his pounding head and kneeled down next to her. She met his eyes. "I'm sorry." She sobbed quietly.

Before he could ask her what she was talking about, she seemed to blur and then her eyes turned white and she suddenly seemed to erupt, knocking Spock over. He raised his eyes to see Lydia gone and noticed something that looked like a cross between black smoke and sand with a red core. The entity moved like a storm towards their tormentors, engulfing them. When it drew back, Turek and Stonn were lying on the ground. For a moment Spock thought they were dead, but then he noticed they were still breathing.

Suddenly, five cloaked figures appeared out of nowhere, surrounding the entity, seemingly about to draw a weapon. Spock called out. "Please don't harm her. It is not her fault."

One of the figures turned and came over, taking off their hood to reveal a bearded man in his mid-twenties with brown hair and ivy-green eyes. He kneeled down next to Spock. "You know that this is Lydia McGill?" he asked gently.

Spock nodded vigorously, regretting it instantly when his head started pounding again. The man studied him closely before calling out to his companions to wait.

Spock breathed raggedly. "Lydia, please. Come back. They are not worth it. They are intolerant jerks who need to learn what IDIC really means. Please."

To the apparent surprise of the people around him, the entity seemed to still. Spock stood on shaky legs, fighting his vertigo with the help of the human supporting him with an arm around his back. "Please Lydia, I need you. You are the only friend I have." Spock had passed the point where he cared about Vulcan propriety.

And to everyone's surprise the entity lowered itself, formed a storm and then turned back into the unconscious form of a human girl with red curls spread over the red sand.

Spock felt the hands holding him tighten before he too fainted.

* * *

Spock opened his eyes and found himself in his own bed. He sat up, his head still slightly pounding, but definitely better.

"It is good to see you awake," the man from earlier spoke. "Your mother is worried sick about you, but I had to talk to you first."

Spock looked at him where he sat on the edge of the bed. "My name is Justus Donnahey. And to be honest with you, there are things I can't tell you. We have implanted false memories into your schoolmates' minds. They believe they were surprised by a sandstorm. I ask you to stick to this story."

Spock blinked before nodding. "Where is Lydia?"

"With her father. Mr. McGill was furious. My superior is with him giving him hell about bringing Lydia here in her state. And he's going to have my head when he finds out I have prevented your memories from being altered as well."

Spock frowned. "Why did you not change my memories?"

Donnahey sighed. "Call me irrational, but I have a feeling that this would have done more harm than good. For both of you."

Spock took a deep breath. "When can I see her?"

The human blinked. "So you really wish to hold onto your relationship? Despite her having abilities you don't understand and she can't control?"

Spock looked determined. "Yes. She was provoked severely. She is not to blame."

Donnahey nodded. "We know that. But Lydia's condition may not be healable. It might kill her before she turns 10. And any outburst of this magnitude is a danger for everyone involved."

Spock froze and tried to suppress the deep sadness he felt. "Please, I need to see her again. I have no other friends. She is the only one to accept me as I am."

The man squeezed his shoulder. "Give her and yourself a few days to recover. Then you can visit her, how does that sound?"

Spock gave a slow nod. "Alright."

* * *

McGill sat down at his little girl's bedside. "Do we have to go back to England?" a quiet voice asked.

Ian stroked the curly hair. "No. The Minister is furious. But after the Wizengamot got word about what exactly happened and what Spock did, they decided to not make us return home. And they also agreed with the Senior Undersecretary's decision to not alter his memory."

Lydia sobbed. "He's not going to want to come over again."

He sighed. "You don't know that, Darling."

"But I know, Dad. He won't want to be friends anymore. He's my only friend apart from Toodey. I don't want to lose him."

Ian took his daughter into his arms. "I know," he said into her hair as she cried. "I know."

* * *

A week later, Spock hurried to eat his breakfast. He wanted to visit Lydia. "Someone's in quite a hurry," his mother remarked in amusement across from him.

Spock put his spoon down. "Father is not agreeable to me seeing her again, is he?"

Amanda sighed. "Your father does not have to know everything. He's not even here. I will handle it if he says something."

Spock looked doubtful. "Spock. Lydia is important to you. I will not allow anyone to keep you from seeing her."

He gifted his mother with a small smile. "Thank you, Mother."

She smiled back. "You are welcome. Now go see her. Just don't get into any more sandstorms."

* * *

When the door opened, Spock had a strange sense of déjà vu. Ian McGill stood in front of him in the same getup he'd worn when Spock had visited them the first time. Only now the man seemed to not quite believe his eyes.

"May I come in, Sir?"

McGill regained his composure and stepped aside. "Of course. Tea?"

Spock shook his head. "Can I see Lydia?"

McGill smiled. "So you came back. Lydia didn't think you would."

Spock studied his boots. "She means a lot to me," he admitted quietly.

The smile softened. "And you to her. She is devastated. Your return will make her the happiest girl in the universe."

Spock decided to not contradict the human who knocked on Lydia's bedroom door. "You have a visitor."

Spock heard what he believed was the door of her closet closing before a quiet voice permitted him to enter.

He stepped inside to be greeted by a pair of nearly black, puffy eyes staring at him in utter disbelieve. "Spock."

The girl looked utterly miserable. Her eyes had lost their liveliness. Her whole face was red and puffy from crying. Her hair was messier than it had ever been and she was still in her sleepwear. A simple midnight blue set with long sleeves and trousers, the latter covered all over with silver glittery stars.

He cleared his throat. "I wished to inform you that while I have no idea what it was that occurred a week ago, and I will not ask, I wish to continue our friendship. If you are agreeable."

She blinked before tears welled up in her eyes and before Spock knew what was happening, he found himself with an armful of human child sobbing into his tunic. Spock hesitated, but then hugged her back and the pure relief and happiness assaulting his mental shields was absolutely worth it.

* * *

**Hope I didn't go overboard**


	4. Halloween

Halloween

Ten years had gone by. Lydia and her father had left Vulcan two months before her eleventh birthday. He'd deeply regretted her leaving. He had even bought her a birthday gift: a silver hair clip in the shape of an owl sitting on a branch. Its eyes were black diamond cut stones, the owl's body was decorated with a row of three clear, light-blue stones at the top and bottom and three rows of four stones in between. The tail contained another four stones of the same color. There were two blue stones left and right of the animal along the actual clip peeking through the vine-like ornaments that loosely formed a rhombus three inches long and 2 inches high.

Given the McGills were scheduled to leave the next morning, Spock had presented it to her early. Her eyes had sparkled like the multifaceted ones of the owl before she had hugged him tightly. They had sat like this for a while. "I'll miss you a lot," she'd whispered.

"Your absence will be keenly felt."

While this had not been the last he had heard from her, contact had been rare. She had sometimes called him using her great-grandparents' computer when home on summer vacation from her boarding school in Scotland.

Spock switched off his computer in his dorm at Starfleet Academy. She should have graduated last summer. He was glad for her that she had regained her mental stability during her stay on Vulcan. She had never transformed again. And the winds she had apparently been the cause of had been minor.

Today was October 31. He knew his classmates were gathering in the cafeteria to have a party. He had been invited by a fellow science student, one of the few humans in his class that genuinely respected him, but he saw no reason to attend. His mind was about to wander back to his British friend when his door buzzed. He frowned in confusion. Who wanted to see him at 2000 hours? He schooled his expression and went to open the door.

"Surprise! It's great to see you again, Spock."

Spock blinked. The young woman in front of him wore a black robe over a blue medieval looking dress. A cliché black pointed witch hat with a broad brim sat on wild red, about chin-length hair. Nearly black eyes were accentuated with what Spock had heard was called a winged eyeliner and long black eyelashes. He saw a hint of bronzing and shimmer powder and rosy blush on normally pale cheeks. The lips smiling broadly at him were also tinted a slightly more intense shade of red than was natural. She had a large brown cross-shoulder back hanging from her right shoulder and was holding an oddly well maintained broomstick with stirrups in her left hand. "Lydia? What are you doing here?"

Her face fell. "I just wanted to see you again. In person. I met this guy on campus who told me the way to your dorm and that he'd invited you to a Halloween party, but that you declined." She looked down. "I can leave if you prefer to be alone."

Spock shook his head and stepped aside. "Not at all. Please come in. I was simply caught off guard."

She smiled timidly and entered. Her gaze wandered around. "Don't you have a roommate?"

"No, I was given privacy due to my Vulcan heritage."

"Must be nice."

Spock looked her up and down and raised an amused eyebrow. "I see you are embracing the Halloween spirit."

She giggled. "Yeah, I mean today is the one day I can't look too cliché. I like that."

He gestured towards the free bed. "Please feel free to put your things there."

She smiled at him and leaned her broomstick on the wall at the foot of the bed, took off the bag and put it on the bed. She stood there awkwardly. "It's really good to see you."

Spock stepped closer. "I am pleased as well. I am not averse to an embrace. As long as we are alone."

Her smile widened and she hugged him. Standing at 5'3'', she was quite a lot shorter than him.

Spock returned the embrace. His gaze travelled from the hat tucked under his chin to the broomstick and he made a decision. "Would you be amenable to attending the party with me? I will not dress in a costume, but seeing you have and that you enjoy it so much, it does not seem right to let this opportunity go to waste."

He was rewarded with a bright smile that ignited a spark in her eyes. "Really? Wicked! Thanks so much."

She looked at the broomstick. "Maybe I should leave it here. It wasn't exactly cheap. I'd hate it if something happened to it."

Spock merely nodded. He had known since that incident on Vulcan that Lydia had abilities he was not supposed to know about. It would not have surprised him if she had told him she could actually fly on that thing.

He gestured towards the door. "Shall we then?"

She grinned and he followed her outside.

* * *

Lydia licked the milk foam off her lip and sighed with pleasure. "This is good."

Cadet Edward Jamison, Spock's aforementioned fellow science student, looked at the girl in astonishment. "Don't you guys have cappuccino over there? Where do you live?"

"Godric's Hollow," Lydia answered and took another gulp. She put the cup down and closed her eyes with a sigh. "Small community in the West Country."

"Did you go to school there too?"

She shook her head and used her spoon to shovel the remaining foam into her mouth. "I was homeschooled by my mother. She didn't want me to know anything outside her own bigoted mindset. And most children I encountered thought I was weird and that my hair made me look like a witch."

Edward snorted. "Is that the reason for your costume?"

She put the spoon down. "Yeah, I thought it would be funny. I started attending a boarding school in Scotland after I turned eleven."

Edward nodded and stood. "I'll go get a beer. You want anything?"

Spock declined while Lydia ordered a beer as well. Spock lowered his voice. "I hope you did not have to continue to live with your mother for too long."

Lydia shrugged. "Grandpa kicked her out when I was seven after he found out that she was downright abusive towards me and our staff. She had a tendency to pull me down the stairs by my hair when she believed I'd done something wrong. And it got only worse from there. I only recently stopped being scared of the basement."

Spock nodded gravely. "It would explain why you snapped when Turek pulled your hair."

She avoided his eyes. "I'm still not fond of my hair being pulled on." She shook her head. "I hope I'm not embarrassing you too much. They must think of me as even more alien than you."

Spock accepted that she wished to change the subject. "You are not embarrassing me. And before humans were aware of the existence of extraterrestrials, the term 'alien' referred to people from other countries. Therefore, we are both 'aliens'."

She smiled at him gently. "Thanks."

The evening continued on this way. Lydia was now nursing her second bottle of beer after she had had two cups of punch, which someone had without doubt spiked with hard liquor.

Lydia blew gently over the opening of her bottle, creating a steady tone. She repeated this until she produced a sequence of those sounds that sounded vaguely like the call of an owl.

Edward laughed and Spock had to contain a smile. "Girl, you're a complete nut job."

She grinned brightly and mock saluted. "At your service."

The human laughed again before his gaze fell on a blond girl in a pink ballgown and a golden crown on her head. "Oh shit, Aurora is here too. Can't stand that arrogant brat."

Lydia looked at the girl. "Aurora, like from Disney's Sleeping Beauty? Would fit the dress."

The boy nodded. "Yeah. You've watched Disney movies?"

She shrugged. "A few. I like the scene where Maleficent hypnotizes Aurora to go upstairs and prick her finger. All the green light and the music are nicely creepy."

Edward snorted and Spock raised both eyebrows, his lips twitching. Lydia crossed her arms and pouted. "What? I like dark and creepy stuff."

Jamison chuckled. "Well, alright. Think you can make her sleep for a hundred years so we don't have to deal with her anymore?"

Lydia thought for a moment. "I think I could cook something up."

He turned to Spock and stage whispered: "Spock, whatever you do, never lose contact with that girl. She's awesome."

Spock looked at Lydia fondly, watching her blush at the praise. "I quite agree with you."

* * *

**A bit of Lydia and Spock bonding before I start with the main plot of this story. Hope you liked it.**


	5. Happiness Can Be Found

Happiness Can Be Found

"And the autopsy revealed nothing?" Kirk asked McCoy.

"Less than nothing," the doctor answered. "The autopsy report shows nothing wrong with Admiral Perry Lewton and Doctor Ashlyn Lewton. Well, apart from being dead and a look of sheer terror on their faces."

"How is that possible?"

"Unknown, Captain. However, this is not the first time this phenomenon has been reported. In 1943, the Riddle family was found dead in their home in Little Hangleton, England. Authorities suspected Frank Bryce, the Riddles' gardener, and would have charged him with the murders had the autopsy reports not been entirely inconclusive. The Riddles were known to be snobbish, arrogant and rude and therefore extremely unpopular. The villagers only cared about their deaths for gossip," Spock explained.

"Did the gardener see anything?"

"He testified that he saw a dark-haired boy, but nobody believed him. Mr. Bryce went missing in 1994 and was never heard from again."

Kirk looked thoughtful. "Admiral Komack stated there were many incidents that happened on the British Isles that were never validly explained in his opinion. Are the British covering up many things or is Komack just fed up about being shipped off to London?"

"The Riddles' deaths are undeniably odd. However, a cover-up of the magnitude Komack suggests would require governmental intervention."

Kirk shook his head slightly. "This sounds like some big conspiracy theory. What did your contact say? What was her name again?"

"Lydia A. McGill. She did not wish to discuss the subject despite working in law enforcement."

"How did you say the two of you met?" McCoy asked as they walked down the nearly empty streets of London.

"She and her father lived on Vulcan for a few years before she was accepted into a school in Scotland."

"Why would someone move to Vulcan with their kid?"

Spock raised an eyebrow, but did not rise to the bait. He did not wish to argue. He had not seen Lydia in person since the Halloween party and did not wish to ruin his pleasant anticipation. "That I cannot say."

McCoy exchanged a look with Kirk who merely shrugged. Jim knew Spock better than anyone on the ship and the only one of his friends who knew him even better was Lydia. Kirk probably knew more about Spock's regard for her than he let on.

As they walked, the temperature dropped all of a sudden. The streetlights flickered and… froze over? Spock started feeling gloomy and a look at his friends told him they felt it too.

"This is unusual," McCoy stated quietly. "Anyone else feel like something's sucking all joy from the area?"

Kirk nodded. "Are entities feeding on emotions more common than we thought?"

None of them had time to answer. In a flash, Kirk was slammed into the wall of a building they had just passed, his feet dangling and his hands grasping at something around his throat. McCoy was lying on the floor, also struggling with a force Spock couldn't see. Spock felt like his breath had solidified in his chest, memories of Jim's limp form on the sands of Vulcan flashing through his mind before he pushed them down with great effort.

There was a loud cracking noise and a small figure in a black hooded robe appeared out of nowhere. A pale, delicate hand held a slim black wooden stick about 15 inches in length with a single silver band above the handle. The figure raised it and moved it around, but nothing happened. The figure looked at the stick and Spock was about to inquire what was going on when the person stumbled back and collided with him. The hood slipped off, revealing red, curly, chin-length hair, partially held back by a silver owl hairclip with black and blue stones. "Lydia? What is the meaning of this?"

Lydia turned her head, her dark eyes filled with fear and despair. Then she looked over at Kirk, or rather at something in front of Kirk. "You can see them?"

She pressed her lips together and nodded. Her face contorted and she looked like whatever was attacking them had lost interest in him and was now focusing on Lydia. She suddenly gripped his hand and because his shields had suffered from the onslaught of depression, he caught a glimpse of what she saw. Three human-shaped beings were hovering above the ground in floating, torn black cloaks, their heads hidden under hoods and very close to those of the humans. Grey, glistening, bony hands emerged from the fabric. He could also hear rattling breaths coming from them.

It was over in a flash. Now he could hear Lydia's frantic thoughts. _*You can't fail. The Dementor's Kiss… No, no… Don't go there… Not the desert… Happy thoughts… happy… Spock didn't leave… that memory… Focus*_

Spock had no idea what all of that meant, but he closed his hand around hers and gave it an encouraging squeeze. She took a deep breath, pointed the stick at the creature in front of them that he could no longer see and said in a surprisingly strong and steady voice: "Expecto Patronum."

He had to close his eyes at the bright light shooting out of the tip. He opened them carefully and saw a bright, silvery white, skeletal… horse? with wings? apparently chasing away their attackers. Kirk dropped face first to the ground, McCoy sat up where he'd been held down and Spock felt the cold, the depression and the darkness disappear. The ice was gone and the streetlights functional once more.

McCoy stared at Lydia wide-eyed. She met his gaze briefly before frowning and looking over at Kirk who was lying on the sidewalk, unmoving. Both officers rushed over to their friend while Lydia stayed where she was. "Unconscious. And his nose is broken," McCoy told Spock without looking up from his readings. "What was that?"

Spock looked back at the redhead, who was awkwardly shifting her weight from one foot to the other and fiddling with her… wand?

Footsteps were approaching them quickly. Spock saw a woman in her late 30s with long wavy chestnut hair and emerald green eyes, Admiral Komack, and a man who he upon closer inspection recognized as Mr. Justus Donnahey, the man Spock had spoken to during and after the incident in the Vulcan desert.

Of course, he had aged considerably, but his features were still easy to identify. Even his beard and hair were the same as they had been 30 years ago, even if they were now streaked with grey.

"We should relocate to a more private location," he said calmly before Komack had time for an outburst. The woman had been talking to Lydia in a comforting manner. She glanced at her and patted her shoulder. "Anabelle probably has a spare room for us. And Erin is there tonight. She could have a look at the captain."

Donnahey nodded. "That's a good idea. Thank you, Malinda."

He turned to Spock. "Can you and the doctor help your friend? There is a pub nearby."

Spock carefully picked Jim up and they followed Donnahey and Malinda, Lydia lagging behind the two, arguing with Komack.

"The redhead is Lydia McGill, I assume?" McCoy asked Spock quietly. Spock nodded tensely.

"Relax, Spock. I'm not judging. I can't help feeling that she just saved our hides, whatever just happened. Only Komack sounds more pissed than ever."

"You're that girl who keeps hindering my men from investigating the Lewtons' deaths," Komack accused her.

Lydia's reply sounded equally irritated albeit tired. "I'm not a girl, I'm a grown woman. And you have no idea what you're dealing with and are therefore the one jeopardizing _our_ investigations."

They suddenly stopped in front of an old, broken down shop front. "Ladies, go in and inform Miss Higgins that we require a bedroom," Donnahey ordered.

The women looked at each other before Malinda walked right _through _the wall. Lydia hesitated, her eyes briefly met Spock's before she lowered her gaze back to the ground and followed Malinda.

Donnahey turned to them and gestured towards the barrier. "After you, Gentlemen."

"What the hell is going on here?" the admiral exclaimed.

"I'll explain," Donnahey assured him. "But first we need to tend to Captain Kirk's well-being."

McCoy met Spock's eyes and Spock slowly stepped towards and through the wall, closely followed by the doctor. They were greeted by the interior of an old, small, but not unwelcoming pub. It was eerily quiet and the patrons, most of them dressed in robes and pointed hats while others wore normal street clothing, were staring at them in disbelieve and pity.

Komack and Donnahey entered next and soon they were led up a flight of stairs by a woman with golden curls cascading down the entire length of her back, wearing a white, flowing dress. She spoke reassuringly, her blue eyes full with compassion. "The others are already inside." She opened a door and gestured towards the bed. "Put him there."

Spock gently laid Jim down before taking in his surroundings. They were in a cozy bedroom equipped with a fireplace, a few chairs and a desk. The fire basked everything in a warm glow.

He saw Malinda and Lydia who had shed their robes, revealing Malinda's business wear, a dark green blouse, black trousers and pumps, and in Lydia's case a short black dress with a swirling pleated skirt and long sleeves, black leggings and knee-high, flat leather boots. Standing next to them was a woman with olive skin, brown eyes and straight black hair in a messy up do. She was dressed in dark jeans, a white off-shoulder shirt and black sneakers.

Another woman brushed past him, immediately checking over the captain. She was dark skinned, her hair was frizzy and black and her eyes were a deep chocolate brown. She wore white basketball shoes, wide black trousers and a neon green, long-sleeved shirt. "Did it take off its hood?" she asked Lydia.

"No," came the quiet reply. "But it was about to. I barely managed the charm in time."

Kirk groaned and opened his eyes. "What happened? I feel like my soul almost got sucked out."

The women and Donnahey blinked in surprise. The woman bent over Kirk chuckled mirthlessly. "That's the best description of a dementor attack that I've ever heard from a muggle."

"A what?" Kirk asked and tried to bring his hand up to his face before it was stopped. "Don't. It's broken. I can fix it easily. If you'll allow me."

"Bones?"

"We're here, Jim. Go ahead. I can't do much for you at the moment."

Kirk looked up. "Please."

She nodded and pulled a brown stick out of her sleeve. It was shorter than Lydia's and thorny vines were carved into the wood almost all the way up to the tip. She pointed it at Kirk's nose and said loud and clear: "Episkey."

Kirk blinked rapidly and gingerly felt his nose. McCoy examined his face. "Healed. How does it feel?"

"First hot, then cold. Now it feels normal." He met the brown eyes. "Thank you."

She smiled. "You're welcome."

"Can someone tell us what's going on?" Komack interjected.

Donnahey sighed. "Let's start with introductions." He gestured to the woman who had just fixed Kirk's nose. "Erin Evans, a healer at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. The blonde is Anabelle Higgins, the landlady of the Leaky Cauldron, the oldest pub in London." A gesture towards the woman with the messy up do. "Hope Jenkins. She works at the Department of Mysteries. Lydia McGill, Head of the Auror Office. Aurors are trained to investigate crimes related to the Dark Arts and to apprehend such criminals. And last but not least, Malinda Jones, my Senior Undersecretary. And I am Justus Donnahey, the Minister for Magic."

Komack looked skeptical. "Magic? You're kidding."

Donnahey shook his head. "No, I'm a wizard. The five women are witches. People born with magical abilities. Centuries ago, we decided to hide our existence from non-magical folk, which we call 'muggles'. They soon forgot about us and only myths remained. We have developed an entirely different society."

Spock nodded in understanding. "I do not believe I need to ask why. I assume your people have found ways to channel your abilities and use them in different aspects, such as law enforcement and defense or medical care."

Donnahey smiled. "Correct. We are organized like any state. But we use magic for what you have developed technological means."

Komack narrowed his eyes at Spock. "You don't seem surprised at all."

Lydia answered for Spock. "My father and I lived on Vulcan for a few years. Spock and I met and spend a lot of time together. Magical children that have not yet started their education are prone to cause minor accidents with their abilities as they have not yet learned to control them and don't have a wand yet to channel them. He witnessed a few outbursts. And my father is a bit odd by muggle standards. He doesn't know a thing about technology despite his mother having been a muggle-born."

Her eyes flickered to his, silently begging him not to say anything about what had really happened. He tilted his head downwards to show her that he understood.

"What is a dementor? You said it was what attacked us." McCoy asked.

Lydia took a deep breath. "Dementors are dark, almost spirit-like beings that feed on human happiness and thereby generate feelings of depression and despair in whoever comes close to them and leave them with only their worst experiences. They can also consume a person's soul, leaving their victims in a permanent vegetative state. We call that the Dementor's Kiss. As dementors are neither alive nor dead, they can't be killed, only driven away."

Kirk smiled at Lydia in a grateful and encouraging manner. "And that's what you did?"

Lydia nodded, but didn't look at him. "I managed the charm just before the one attacking you began taking off its hood. Dementors look like grey, slimy, decaying bodies in torn black, floating cloaks. My first attempt failed because I assumed I could do it non-verbally."

Erin rolled her eyes. "You can do it non-verbally usually. The situation was just too taxing for your mental state and this is why it failed. It's a difficult charm. Don't beat yourself up over it."

"Non-verbally is more difficult?" Spock asked. He wanted to walk over to Lydia and hug her, tell her it was okay. He mentally shook his head. What was he thinking?

Hope made a noise of confirmation. "It is. And Lydia was the top of our class. In our final year, she had the highest possible mark in all five required subjects for Auror training. And that particular charm isn't part of the curriculum."

"What was that charm?" Spock inquired further.

"The Patronus Charm is the only thing that one can use to defend themselves against a dementor," Malinda explained. "In its easier non-corporal form, it can act as a shield. The more complicated corporal patronus takes the form of an animal which then chases the dementors away. A well-executed patronus can drive hundreds of them away, no matter what animal it resembles."

"I've never seen such an animal before," said McCoy.

Donnahey smiled. "It is rare for the charm to take on the shape of a magical creature. Regardless, Miss McGill's patronus is a thestral. They are skeletal black horses with batwings that can only be seen by those that have seen, understood and processed death. Some still consider them omens of death and misfortune. But they are quite calm and gentle creatures."

"Why is it so difficult to cast?" Spock asked.

Anabelle, who had briefly left the room, returned with a tray with four steaming mugs. "The caster must focus on the most powerful happy memory they have. It's something of a mental exercise to do so in the presence of a dementor."

She handed McCoy, Kirk, Spock and Lydia a mug containing hot chocolate. "Drink. Chocolate mitigates some of the effects the dementors have on people."

"Why was Kirk the only one that passed out?" Komack asked suspiciously.

Lydia shrugged. "He probably has the worst experiences. It isn't a sign of weakness or anything. There was a boy who heard his mother begging her murderer to spare his life before she was killed when he was only one year old. He passed out, too before he learned how to cast a corporal patronus."

They looked appalled. "Why would anyone kill a baby?" McCoy exclaimed.

Lydia sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose while squeezing her eyes shut. "That's a long and complicated story. In short, a dark wizard at the height of a war thought the boy would grow up to be a threat to his power and so he wanted to kill him, but failed due to some strange circumstances."

Komack was not entirely satisfied with the explanation though, but Lydia continued before he could say something. "That man caused two wars, killed countless people, including the Riddles and their gardener, in case you were wondering. His pureblood ideology still has followers and those followers are responsible for the Lewtons' deaths. The Lewtons' were killed for being the parents of a muggle-born witch who teaches magical children about muggles and their way of living. So stop interfering with the work of my department."

Komack looked angry. "Why were we not informed of this?"

Donnahey crossed his arms. "We do inform the muggle government in cases like this and I came to your office to explain everything before we were informed of the dementor attack."

Komack's frown deepened. "What was that thing anyway?"

Lydia bristled. "He's not a thing. He's a sentient, intelligent being and part of my family."

McCoy looked back and forth between them. "What are you talking about?"

Lydia sighed heavily before calling out: "Toodey."

There was another cracking sound and suddenly there was a creature in their room. It was about three feet tall, skinny and had an oversized head with green eyes the size of tennis balls and bat-like ears. Its nose was long and thin. The skin was a light brown color and it wore what looked like a royal blue pillowcase with holes for its head and arms with a cord bound around its waist as a belt. "Mistress Lydia called for Toodey?" it asked in a squeaky voice.

Lydia put her mug down and knelt down in front of the strange creature. "This is Toodey. He's my family's house elf. House elves are beings that serve wizards and witches. Toodey here keeps our home in order." She looked Toodey in the eye. "I need you to tell them your account of tonight's events."

Toodey looked around the room, his eyes focusing on Spock. "When Commander Spock announced that he and his crewmates planned to visit, my mistress became concerned about their well-being because of recent events. Because she could not personally keep an eye on them, she ordered Toodey to do so and to inform her immediately if something happened. When he became aware of the dementors, Toodey did as he was ordered. He brought his mistress to the right place and left to inform the minister as per her orders." Toodey's gaze went to the captain. "Is everyone alright?"

Kirk gave the elf a small smile in reassurance. "No worse for the wear. Thank you for looking out for us, Toodey."

Toodey smiled shyly and lowered his eyes to the floor. "Toodey did as he was ordered, Captain Kirk Sir."

"You know that creature, Commander?"

Spock straightened. "Not at all, Admiral. We have not met, however, as he is part of the McGill household, I assume he accompanied them to Vulcan. Is that so, Toodey?"

Toodey nodded. "Toodey kept the suite in order, prepared the meals and watched Master Ian's daughter when he was not around."

Spock acknowledged the unsaid information in that statement with a nod. "There is your explanation."

"So essentially this woman ordered her house servant to follow you around and spy on you. How does that not bother you?"

Kirk exchanged looks with his friends. "Miss McGill's concerns were not unjustified and I can't feel mad at her for doing something that literally saved our souls."

Komack looked more and more frustrated at being apparently the only one that had trouble comprehending. He took a step towards Lydia, an action that caused Toodey to put himself between the humans and raise a hand in a defensive manner. "Do not step closer."

Komack blinked before his frown returned. "Are you threatening me?"

Toodey shook his head. "No, Sir. But Toodey will not allow anyone to harm his family."

Donnahey cleared his throat. "I'm sure he meant no harm, Toodey. Admiral, don't underestimate house elves. They can do magic wizards can't and that magic is quite powerful. They just don't look like it, I hope you gentlemen don't mind that you will be staying in Godric's Hollow at the McGill's residence. There is someone willing to send dementors after you, I don't want to leave you unprotected. Considering Spock is already familiar with the Head Auror, I hope this does not bother you."

"Where is Godric's Hollow?" McCoy asked with confusion.

"It is a small community in the West Country," Spock replied casually. His lip twitched at the incredulous looks in his direction. "Did you think I did not know where my longest acquaintance lived?"

Hope spoke up. "I think it's best if Toodey and I went home to prepare their rooms while Lydia, the captain, the doctor and Spock spend the night here. It's better if you recover a bit more before travelling again."

Kirk nodded. "Sounds like a good idea. Even if I'm not sure I'll get any sleep tonight."

Lydia rummaged around in her robe and pulled out a vial of dark purple liquid. She stepped closer to the bed and extended it towards him. "This would make you fall into a deep dreamless sleep almost instantly for a couple of hours. It's yours if you want it? I brewed it myself. And I promise that I'm not trying to poison you."

"I didn't think so."

"Are you going to drink an unknown substance given to you by a woman you just met that is also a witch?"

Kirk shrugged and took the vial from Lydia. "I don't think that 'witch' is much of an insult around here. Anyway, she is a close acquaintance of Spock and if Spock trusts her, I'll trust his judgment."

"Agreed," the doctor murmured into his mug.

"I vouch for Miss McGill's trustworthiness."

Donnahey suppressed a grin. "Malinda and I will escort the admiral to his accommodation and make sure he's protected as well and then return to the Ministry. Ms. Jenkins, you'll proceed with your plan. Miss Higgins, you do your job at this establishment. Miss Evans, you are free to go home. Goodnight, everyone."

Soon, the three men, Lydia and Anabelle were the only people left. "I guess, I'll escort you to your rooms," Anabelle said.

"If it's not an inconvenience, I'd like to stay with Jim as long as he's asleep. Just to ensure his recovery."

"It's no inconvenience, Doctor." She pulled out her wand, pointed it at one of the chairs, waved it and levitated it next to the bed where she put it down. She tilted her head in thought before tapping the back of the chair, transforming it into a reclinable armchair with a footrest, a blanket and a pillow. "Do you think you'll be comfortable?"

McCoy chuckled. "This will take some getting used to, but yes, it's perfect. Thanks."

She smiled and nodded. She mentioned for Lydia and Spock to follow her and led them out of the room.

* * *

Spock came out of his meditation feeling somewhat better. His luggage had been delivered to his room during the last few hours. Spock rose and stepped out into the corridor. He wanted to see if Lydia was asleep, which, considering the late hour, was quite likely.

He knocked on the door gently, surprised when he received a reply. He opened the door and stepped in, closing it behind him. Lydia sat on the bed, dressed in sapphire blue pajamas. "Has your meditation been successful?"

He sat down next to her. "Quite. I have processed today's events."

She was nervously playing with the bed sheet. "Sorry."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Why are you sorry?"

She stood and started pacing. "For not being honest. I wanted to tell you. But the Statue of Secrecy did not allow it. It usually only makes an exception for close relatives of muggle-borns and muggle spouses. For sending Toodey to watch you and your friends. For almost failing…" Her voice broke and she burrowed her face in her hands. "Merlin, I almost failed you when you needed me the most."

Spock stood up and took hold of her shoulders. "I understand that you couldn't tell me. I am not angry about Toodey. There was a valid reason for your actions and you have my gratitude for them. And you did not fail. It is alright. We are perfectly healthy."

She fell forward against his chest and started crying. "I was so scared and that almost cost you…"

"Lydia," he interrupted sternly. "You managed and if I understood your friends correctly, it is not an easy feat."

She looked up at him, still unsure. "You're sure you can spend your leave in a house run magically with Malinda, Hope, my father, Toodey and me for housemates?"

He let a corner of his mouth twitch upwards. "I believe it will be an interesting experience."

She was still not convinced. "Anabelle sponsored a bottle of fire whiskey. Can I entice you into sharing it with me?"

He allowed himself a smile. "Vulcans are immune to the effects of alcohol, but I am curious to try it."

They sat down at the desk and she poured them a glass each. He took a sip, the beverage's effect giving a whole new meaning to the phrase 'liquid courage'. "Curious."

He looked at his friend. "Lydia. The memory you used for the patronus…"

She downed her drink and refilled her glass. "After the desert, I was certain you'd never come back. You standing in my room, saying you wanted to continue our friendship, that's the happiest memory I have. My only friend apart from you was Toodey." She sniffed. "I'm pathetic. The elf that can't disobey any orders was my only friend."

He put his glass down and gently took hers from her and put it beside his. He took her hands in his. "You are not pathetic. You are a remarkable person, Lydia. I am honored to be your friend. And Toodey truly cares about you, it is not about orders. I could see that."

She looked up at him. "You truly don't care about the magic part?"

He let his fondness of her leak into his expression. "No more than you care about me being half human and half Vulcan."

She smiled and picked up their glasses, handing him his. "So not one bit?" She raised her glass slightly.

They clinked glasses. "Correct."

* * *

**Sorry for the wait. I had problems with my laptop. Hope you liked it. A few descriptions are borrowed from the Harry Potter Wiki.**


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